


loophole

by fagstar



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Anyways, Bazinga, Gen, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Men Crying, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Self-Esteem Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Vulnerability, but none of them play a really prominent role so im not tagging them, like ph1lza minecraft and technoblade, no beta we die like jschlatt in the drug van, no edits either LOL idc, ok so there r other ppl mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28524267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fagstar/pseuds/fagstar
Summary: Sound travelled farther in the Nether, and Quackity could hear it pretty clearly now. Someone was crying, heartbroken wails and screams of anguish that carried across the land. Quackity looked around, trying to find the source of the crying, and nearly stopped in his tracks when he did. Someone was sitting on a thin log over the lava.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & TommyInnit
Comments: 14
Kudos: 263





	loophole

**Author's Note:**

> YES this is a tommy angst fic YES quackity is pretty much only here because i like him... what about it

Tommy leaned against the Nether portal, the dark obsidian nearly burning his skin. The dry netherrack ground scorched his one bare foot and even his fingers, which had previously been cold to the touch, were warm. Despite the heat surrounding him, despite his physical warmth, Tommy felt so cold. So hopeless.

He tore himself from the support of the portal and dragged his feet to the oak log he had built to overlook the lava. Lava was so pretty. It was warm, too, and Tommy was freezing. It felt like he was a thin piece of ice, flimsy and fragile and ready to break at any moment. 

Dream had blown up his armour not 10 minutes before, like he did nearly every day (and had done, for the months since Tommy’s exile). Why did he insist on torturing Tommy? He had what he wanted; Tommy was exiled. Far from L’Manburg, from his friends and family and home. Tommy missed L’Manburg. As he gazed down at the lava, from the end of the log, he felt some of those familiar feelings of hopelessness and loneliness bubble up inside of him. 

No one wanted to visit him. Not unless it was out of pity, or unless it was Dream. No one wanted him in L’Manburg. Tubbo had exiled him in a second, not even consulting his cabinet. And yeah, Fundy and Quackity had protested, but had they even tried to help him? Tommy remembered what Tubbo said that day, all those months ago. The words haunted his nightmares, ringing in the background of Wilbur’s “Let’s be the bad guys, Tommy”. “Selfish”. “Liability”. Was he right? Was Tommy really so selfish for just wanting his discs back? He’d given up the presidency so he could pursue them (not that Wilbur hadn’t already completely destroyed his confidence in his abilities to be a leader). He wasn’t even supposed to be vice president until he had the discs back. Was Tommy really a liability? Recently, Tommy wasn’t quite sure.

Wiping furiously at his eyes as tears begun to fall, he choked on a sob. Oh, god. He was a liability, wasn’t he? Of course Tubbo hadn’t wanted him, L’Manburg hadn’t wanted him. He just fucked everything up. Tommy’s chest heaved as he wailed, staccato breaths in and heartbroken sobs out. Even Ghostbur had left him eventually. Tommy was too sad to be around, the reality of his situation, of his sad little tent and the established armour hole and the abandoned beach party decorations and of him, milling about aimlessly, too miserable to deal with.

Only Dream put up with him. He visited nearly every day, and he was probably the reason Tommy hadn’t gone insane from loneliness. All he did was subtly degrade Tommy and destroy things. No, that wasn’t right. Dream was Tommy’s friend. He visited often, and sometimes even gave Tommy gifts! But…

Tommy shook his head aggressively, hands gripping his hair harshly as he let out a scream of frustration through gritted teeth. Why was this so confusing? Why couldn’t Dream just either be his friend or not be his friend? Every time he tried to figure out which it was, he got so confused and sad and angry.

Something Dream had once said flew to the forefront of Tommy’s mind, unbidden. It had been around the beginning of his exile. “Please can I go home, Dream?” Tommy had asked, exhausted, defeated. Dream had hesitated. “I mean- It’s not like they want you, anyways, Tommy.” Tommy had just sighed. 

Now, though, Tommy knew Dream had been right. He wasn’t wanted. Not by Tubbo. Not by Quackity, or Fundy, or Niki. Not by Sapnap or George or… or Eret, or BadBoyHalo. Not even by his family; not by Technoblade, who’d only visited at the very beginning of his exile, only to mock him; not by Phil, who had rushed to the favoured oldest child’s aid after murdering the middle. Not by Ghostbur, the shell of a once-great and once-bad man, a spirit who couldn’t understand sadness. Not by Ranboo, who hadn’t visited in nearly a month.

And of course he hadn’t been wanted by Dream. Regardless of if they were friends or not, Dream was the reason Tommy was exiled in the first place. It had just been a harmless prank, but Tommy had paid the price. He didn’t regret taking the fall for Ranboo. He regretted the entire thing. Not the prank itself, but the outcome. God, it was so stupid, and the destruction of maybe 15 blocks of George’s stupid fucking vacation home had cost him everything. His home, his friends, his will to live.

Tommy wanted to die.

__

Quackity had been mining netherite for hours. He was drenched in sweat, red-faced from exertion and from the oppressive heat of the Nether. There was currently a rather large stack of ancient debris in his inventory, so he decided to call it a day. 

Navigating the pits that the bed explosions made proved harder than he thought, and it was nearly 30 minutes before Quackity made it out of the accidental labyrinth. Eventually, he found where he’d entered. He wiped sweat off his brow as he climbed up, and began the walk back to the portal.

Based on the amount of debris he had amassed, Quackity estimated that he would have enough for a full set of netherite armour and a few additional weapons or tools. As the portal came into view, he felt his energy pick up ever so slightly. He liked mining because the repetitive motions helped him get his thoughts in order, but as much as he liked it, he was happy to be almost home.

When he stopped for a quick moment of rest beside the portal, he heard a very faint sound. Almost like a ghast’s wails, but…not quite right. It seemed like it was coming from the direction of Tommy’s portal. Quackity was torn. He wanted to go home, smelt his debris, and take a nap, but something, a gut feeling, told him something bad would happen if he didn’t investigate. With a sigh, he took off in the direction of the sound.

Minutes later, there was a tangible shift of the energy in the air as Quackity drew nearer to the portal at Logstedshire. He’d shuffled along the thin log that spanned the gap a few metres behind him - why was that there, again? - and now he knew something was wrong. He walked for a few moments more before he could see the portal. It looked normal, but the sound was louder. 

Sound travelled farther in the Nether, and Quackity could hear it pretty clearly now. Someone was crying, heartbroken wails and screams of anguish that carried across the land. Quackity looked around, trying to find the source of the crying, and nearly stopped in his tracks when he did. Someone was sitting on a thin log over the lava.

Without thinking, Quackity took off in a sprint. It only took him a minute to reach the end of the road, and he skidded to a halt at the base of the log. The person was sitting at the very end of the log, straddling it and screaming their heart out.His heart dropped when, after a moment, he recognized who it was. 

“Tommy?” he asked weakly, trying to keep his shaky voice steady.

Tommy quieted abruptly, clamping a hand over his mouth for a moment before he turned. Quackity nearly stepped back in shock. He looked awful. Once-bright blond hair was now suddenly almost dark, hanging limp and greasy. His eyes were dark and dull and glassy with tears, face pale but flushed and blotchy from crying, his clothes dirty and torn and- was he missing a shoe? Tommy was thin, too thin, and he looked so, so tired. 

“Hey, Big Q,” Tommy replied, voice hoarse from overuse.

“Hey, Tommy, would you mind coming over here? I don’t want you to fall off,” Quackity asked placatingly, trying to keep his voice calm and even, as if he were talking to an injured animal.

Tommy huffed out a mirthless laugh. “What’s the point?” He cast his gaze to the vast, never ending expanse of hot, swirling lava. “What’s the fucking point?”

Cold panic setting in, Quackity fought to keep his face blank. “What do you mean, Tommy?”

“Why are you here, Quackity? Shouldn’t you be off in L’Manburg?” Tommy’s voice was quiet. 

“I was mining for netherite, actually. Would you please at least move a little bit back?”

“It wouldn’t matter either way.”

Quackity scrunched his face up in confusion. “What does that mean?”

Tommy dug his fingers into the bark beneath him. “What it means, Quackity, is that even if I were to move back, I could still just tip myself off the side.”

“Okay, but will you please just come here?” His voice broke on the last words. Slowly, heavily, Tommy shuffled along the log until solid ground was under his feet, and Quackity let out a sigh of relief.

“Why are you here?” Tommy asked again. His eyes were firmly trained on the ground, and he only looked up when Quackity sat in front of him.

“I’m here because I care about you, Tommy.”

Tommy scoffed at that. “Sure you do.”

“I do, Tommy. Why don't you believe that?"

Tommy huffed, rubbing his temples. "Nobody wants me, man. Nobody comes to visit me, Ghostbur left, long ago, and hasn't come back - hell, Tubbo fucking exiled me! He said it himself, better than I ever could. I'm a liability," Tommy replied dejectedly. 

Quackity was silent for a long moment, and Tommy found himself wondering what he was thinking. Did he agree with Tommy? Did he think Tommy was a liability too? Before he could delve too deep into thought, Quackity spoke.

“I want you, Tommy. I’m really sorry I haven’t visited, and I’m sorry that it’s gotten to the point that you feel shitty. But I know for a fact that Tubbo misses you.”

Sighing, Tommy cast his gaze to the side, eyes boring into the red ground. 

“I don’t believe that. Not even my own father wants me,” he muttered.

“Your father?”

“Phil. The man shows up, murders Will, and runs off with Technoblade, the ever-favoured middle child without even a thought of me.” Tommy felt tears begin to drip down his face again.

“Wait- Technoblade is your brother?” Quackity asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Tommy replied. “You wouldn’t have guessed, ‘cause the man fucking hates me.”

“Nobody hates you, Tommy.”

Tommy felt that frustrated, upset feeling swell in his chest and he burst. Standing up and starting to pace, he exclaimed, “Yes they fucking do! Or, if they don’t hate me, they just straight-up don’t give a fuck!” Tommy gesticulated wildly with his hands to help get his point across. Quackity didn’t understand that truly, nobody cared. “Phil joins and immediately starts gallivanting off with fucking Techno, who also couldn’t care fucking less, nobody from L’Manburg particularly cares because all I am is a liability, no one like Sapnap or BadBoyHalo or fucking Eret gives a fuck, and Tubbo? The one person I thought I could trust? He fucking exiled me, man! Booted me out of the country I gave up everything for.” Chest heaving from his outburst, he ran a hand down his face. 

“And Dream was my friend, but he’s not my friend, because he was just there to watch me, and fucking… psychologically torture me, or some shit, and he’s the reason I’m in this shit to begin with.” Suddenly desperate, his eyes flickered towards Quackity, who was still kneeling, knees dusted with red, watching him concernedly. “It was just a fucking stupid prank, Big Q. I never meant to destroy George’s ugly fucking house, that was an accident. It was just a prank gone wrong, and I paid for it with everything I had.” Tommy let out a sob, furiously scrubbing his hands over his eyes.

“Jesus, Tommy, I… I don’t really know what to say, man. I value you as a person, and as a friend, and if Phil and Technoblade and everyone truly doesn’t care about you, then… they’re missing out. You’re a great kid, Tommy. And I’m really sorry that I didn’t visit you. Like, really, truly sorry.”

Tommy seemed so small now, all the energy drained from him. He was hunched over, leaning against the bottom of a cliff. “I just want it all to stop, man.”

Quackity found himself at a loss of words. What did that mean? Did… did it mean what he thought it meant? Quackity felt so stupid; of course the kid would be sick of constantly being put down and cast aside. Why wouldn’t he be? 

“God, man, I’m so tired. I’m tired of being so far from home, of my only companion being Dream. It’s so shit, you know?” Tommy’s breath hitched as he inhaled through renewed sobs. “Every day is the same. I wake up, wait for Dream to have his fun with tormenting me, and then I’m left completely, utterly alone. There’s no one around for thousands of blocks. It feels like… like the loneliness is crushing me, you know?” He slid to the ground slowly and put his head in his hands. When he spoke next, his voice was weak and defeated. “I wake up every morning in the ocean, drowning, and sometimes I almost can’t bring myself to swim up.”

Slowly, cautiously, Quackity moved over to the vulnerable teen. He reached out, his hand hovering awkwardly over Tommy’s shoulder before he gently placed it on his arm in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. 

Tommy let out another sob. He hadn’t been touched, aside from being hit, by another person in so long. After going so long without it, Tommy was so touch starved it was beginning to affect his physical state. Quackity’s hand, rested softly, caringly on his arm was the thing that did it. The touch burned, and Tommy broke. He launched himself at the man, who opened his arms, startled, as Tommy clung to him. As Tommy felt his arms wrap around him, holding him securely, he wailed, twisting the back of Quackity’s shirt in his hands. It felt like he was overflowing, the overwhelming feeling of finally, finally being touched spreading across his body as Quackity shushed him and stroked his hair soothingly. 

For a while, they stayed like that, before Tommy pulled away and wiped his eyes.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized sheepishly.

“Don’t be sorry, dude. You’ve probably been bottling all that up for so long, it’s good that you got it all out,” Quackity reassured him. Tommy nodded.

“Look, I don’t-” Quackity began awkwardly, before abruptly cutting himself off. “You’re exiled from L’Manburg and the Dream SMP, right?”

Tommy nodded slowly, not understanding the question. “Yeah.”

Quackity was silent for a long moment, face pensive as he thought. Suddenly, he had an answer to his unspoken question. “Okay, so here’s the thing. You’re exiled, and as much as I would like to be there for you, I have responsibilities in L’Manburg.”

Tommy still didn’t understand. “I mean, yeah. Obviously I don’t expect you to just… up and drop everything for me…” he trailed off.

“No, I mean… You’re exiled from L’Manburg and the Dream SMP. Nowhere else. So, hypothetically… you could become a citizen of El Rapids.”

What? Tommy was confused. “How would that work?” he asked.

“Okay, so when Dream refused to recognize Mexican L’Manburg, we may or may not have committed several minor crimes and got Dream to agree to recognize our country if we disbanded Mexican L’Manburg and created a new nation. We called it El Rapids, and technically, nobody from our government has exiled you. And since it’s not part of L’Manburg or the Dream SMP, it’s a separate nation, so you can join us.” Quackity grinned. “Tommy, I think we just found a loophole in Dream’s plan.”

Tommy sat in shock for a moment. He could… come back? He could see his friends again? The thought of going back would have been a dream come true in the first months of his exile, but now, Tommy was afraid. What if they didn’t want him to come back? What if Dream found out he’d left his exile and tried to hurt him again?

“Tommy?” Quackity prodded.

Slowly, deliberately, Tommy nodded. He watched as Quackity grinned brightly again, and felt his own face form a smile. There was a foreign stirring in his heart, and it took Tommy a moment to realize the feeling was happiness. He was happy. Though he was still scared of Dream’s retaliation, to rejection, his happiness shone through. The faint sliver of hope he’d desperately clung to through months of desolation and misery was easily held now.

Quackity stood, and extended his hand down to Tommy. He took it, and Quackity pulled him up. Together, they took off towards the portal hub, and Tommy’s smile kept firm on his face. He was going to be ok.

**Author's Note:**

> tommy is touch starved and lonely because i am touch starved and lonely


End file.
